So I had this heroin habit that was sapping my energy and destroying my life and relationships for about 12 years. I was a relatively well-behaved and pleasant junkie on a slow burn to death. I had clawed my way up the Hollywood ladder, and didn’t have to steal from friends to buy dope, but still life sucked. The twelve steps emphatically did not work for me. It never seemed to be a better alternative than the drug use frankly. I did heroin as a self-medication for depression, which was a result of child-abuse, not because of being morally week, which is the basic premise of the twelve-steps. Why should I turn my life over to the will of god and do a searching moral inventory just because I was sick? Diabetics don’t have to. What is so wrong with wanting a cure? What is wrong with wanting to be normal? Not sick and diseased for the rest of my life?

Ibogaine works. It is better than anything else out there. It is a cure. Just do it. Amazing actually, heroin was once my only true love, the only way I knew to feel normal. Now the thought of it disgusts me. I hope to never touch the stuff again. My power has returned. I have never felt better, happier, or more hopeful; my manic depression is gone. If my head ever gets bad again, I have a solution. I have a regained my soul/spirit or whatever: it was robbed from me.

I rediscovered Ibogaine from reading Daniel Pinchbeck’s “Breaking Open the Head.” Great book. I purchased about a dozen copies for my family and friends. I wanted them to know what I was going through when I did the ibogaine treatment, to not go it alone. My drug use was a solitary activity; I didn’t want my cure to be anonymous. My friends and family all gave me awesome gifts of support. To involve my circle of friends and family was very helpful.

My ibogaine visions? Very little. After an hour into it, I was feeling nothing but a throbbing buzzing. I was thinking great – this is not working. I had gone cold turkey a couple of days earlier, so that I would have the full effect of the ibogaine. Who am I kidding? I love dope. I’ll never quit. I started picturing the entire warm cozy love dope provided me. I started watching myself in the third person do the dope over and over and over. Twelve years of daily use is mind numbingly monotonous. The only vision I had was of me turning into a hideous prune like corpse from the dope use. Still I thought, “What the fuck is going on? Where are the goblins, the movie of my life? Why is all I’m feeling this fucking buzzing?” I couldn’t sit still. The doctors’ jaws hit the floor when I came walking out looking for a cigarette. I later found out that they had given me the second largest dose ever. I had told them that I have a high tolerance to drugs and psychedelics in particular, and that I definitely needed to get rattled. Still, I was not tripping, only that annoying throbbing, pulsing sound in my head. “Doctor, it’s not working, I need more!” “I am not giving you more, the drug is working. It is fixing your head.” He said it in such a kind way.

Man, I wanted to be finding the destiny of my life, the fate of humanity, profound illuminations, and magical visions. BUT NO! I only had this very annoying and painful head, which felt like it was going to explode. My niece who is also my best friend was sitting with me. She told me later that she could feel me vibrating; exploding with energy; when she closed her eyes she would start dreaming. Great for her, but what about me? The only thought that came into my head was that if I stay clean, when people great me with “Hi Steve” I could reply “No, are you?” This is not working I thought. Oh yes it was. The kind doctor was right; the ibogaine was fixing my head.

For the first time ever that song “You can’t always get what you want” made sense and I didn’t hate it. I felt the pain I have caused people over the years. I was hurting, and I NEEDED to hurt. I shivered through the night, and the next day felt like a new man. It did correct the hemispheric imbalance in my brain. I felt absolutely no desire for dope. My self-loathing is gone. Balance is a very beautiful thing for a mind. It is my very firm belief that nothing works better than ibogaine for curing junkies.

The doctors at the treatment center are very good and decent people. I have recommended the treatment center to many people.